


your heart was glass, i dropped it

by madeofstarlights



Series: in breakable heaven [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angsty angsty angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, fluff if you squint lol, kurapika swears, mentions of the kurta clan massacre, tagging this as marriage proposal feels cruel tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeofstarlights/pseuds/madeofstarlights
Summary: Out of all the questionable things that came out of Leorio’s mouth in all the years they’ve known each other, the worst Kurapika has ever heard was ‘I love you'.
Relationships: Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: in breakable heaven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143752
Comments: 16
Kudos: 63





	your heart was glass, i dropped it

**Author's Note:**

> i was so bored of writing my dissertation and the tiny gremlin living inside my head keeps shoving this idea to me so here we are :D this is based on taylor swift's champagne problem (and my own personal experience but we're not gonna talk about that lmao) so i fully blame her for this. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

Out of all the questionable things that came out of Leorio’s mouth in all the years they’ve known each other, the worst Kurapika has ever heard was ‘ _I love you’_.

The first time he heard it was barely a whisper, drowned by the thunders of storms that were raging outside Leorio’s door. He remembered the wound across his chest, stinging from the slices of threads that almost cut through his heart. The magenta haired Spider was one of the trickiest he’s ever faced, with her silk thread that easily rivals his own steel chain in parallels that even he was surprised to see. But as all the Spiders did, she eventually breaks, and it was almost a shame to see the intricate web that she weaved writhes away as his dagger pierced her heart.

He’d won the fight, but the injury was far worse than anything he’s ever endured before. The bastard seemed to know exactly where to cut for it to truly damage the body. He suspected that she’d injected venom through her threads, so even when her prey managed to free themselves, there would still be traces of spider toxin spreading through their veins. Kurapika knew that it wasn’t an ordinary wound, and it wasn’t one that he could heal. So he willed himself to drag his body through the rain, into the one abode he knew he could find a sanctuary in.

Leorio didn’t say anything when Kurapika barged through the door and flung himself into his living room, soiling the hardwood floor with dirt and staining the tan sofa with wet blood and mucus oozing from his scars. The soon-to-be doctor just left without a word then came back with a set of medical kit on his hand and fresh clothes on the other.

He remembered how gentle Leorio’s hands were over his jagged scars, moving ever-so-delicately as if he was scared that he’d accidentally tear Kurapika apart. He remembered the pungent smell of the traditional herbs as it seeps into his skin, forcing the spider’s venom out of his system. He’d never seen such liquid come out of his body before.

The _‘I love you’_ came after a moment of passed silence, and Kurapika wasn’t even sure he was meant to hear that. It seemed to be more of a secret than a confession, hushed and quiet as if Leorio was trying to keep it hidden within him. Or perhaps it wasn’t real, and it was just another hallucination caused by the remnants of toxins in his body, as it was the last thing he remembered of hearing right before he passed out into oblivion.

He couldn’t tell for sure, because he woke up the next morning to the smell of omelette and coffee and found Leorio acting bright and chipper as if he hadn’t been forced to perform an impromptu toxin removal surgery for his nearly dead friend in the middle of his living room the night before. Perhaps it _was_ a hallucination, although there was a lingering look on Leorio’s eyes that neither of them could shake off.

When Kurapika finally excused himself later that afternoon, Leorio handed him a whole different set of outfit to change into – a flannel shirt and a khaki pants – and promised that he’ll take care of his suit in the meantime, because it was torn and desperately needs tailoring, _obviously_.

“I won’t steal it, don’t worry,” Leorio said, boasting that he’s much taller than the blonde that he wouldn’t be able to fit into it anyway, and promised that he’ll return it as soon as he can.

He never did.

The second time he heard it was filled with belly laughter that echoed through the same room where he first heard those three words. But there was no more life-threatening poison running through his blood or thunderstorms raging outside the window. The night felt pleasantly warm, and Kurapika could smell the cinnamon and sugar from the kitchen, a pastry Leorio loved to bake whenever he’s approaching an important exam. Though as important as the exams were, he still rushed to Kurapika’s side when he showed up on his door with a big gash on his arm. The scattered pile of forgotten paper works seemed to be glaring sharply at him if they had eyes.

He didn’t understand why Leorio made such a big fuss about it, running around the apartment like an old nurse, muttering things like ‘ _why the hell did we seem to only meet each other when the little bitch’s injured_ ’ and ‘ _this fucker really had to show up just as my brain was about to finally absorb the materials_ ’ and ‘ _frankincense – where the fuck is the frankincense_ ’, much to Kurapika’s amusement. He couldn’t resist making a comment.

“You’re such an old man,” Kurapika teased as Leorio poured a woody-smelled oil on his wound. “There’s not a scratch.”

Leorio’s calm and concentrated expression quickly turned baffled. “ _Not a scratch_ my ass, what do you call these three claw marks, then?”

“Still, no need to make such a big fuss about it,” Kurapika chuckled.

Leorio rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t making a _big fuss about it_.”

“Sure, ‘cause rummaging around the house like _oh dearie, it seems like I must put my studies on hold as I try to heal this young man’s battle wounds_ – which wasn’t bad, really – _and oh gosh golly! Where did I put this specific herb I made last full moon?_ wasn’t a big fuss at all.”

Kurapika didn’t intend the sarcasm as a joke, but Leorio doubled over, his face quickly turned red from the laughter. It had been a while since he last saw the usually-worried-and-stressed-medical-student laughed so freely that a smile crept onto his face and soon, he found himself joined in the laughter.

“Why –” he wheezed, “Why the hell were you so panicked, anyway?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Leorio, without missing a beat, answered with a big grin on his face and a drop of a tear running down his crinkled eyes, “‘cause I love you, duh.”

Leorio got a nasty purple bruise on the side of his arm as a souvenir of that answer.

The third time was on a fancy ball the Zodiacs had arranged to celebrate the appointment of a new Chairman whose name Kurapika never bothered to learn. He thought the gala was a waste of time and energy that he’d much rather use to fulfill his mission, but Leorio had insisted for both of them to come for various reasons, such as “ _come on, you were part of the Zodiacs too!_ ” and “ _who am I going to dance with if you’re not there?_ ” and “ _wouldn’t it be funny if you wear suits on the daily but shows up to a fancy schmancy ballroom in sweats?”_. Kurapika was not one to be easily persuaded, but Leorio finally managed to convince him with the winning argument of “ _it’s just so that Cheadle won’t pester us for the rest of the year. We’ll leave in ten minutes, I promise._ ”

And so they went.

They escaped five minutes after stepping foot in the premises, into the balcony overlooking the sea, as they felt both of them were a little gauche to fit into the party scene. None of them knew how to do the waltz without stepping over each other’s foot, so they held each other close and swayed slowly to the tune of the song they could vaguely hear from inside of the ballroom in place of a proper dance.

Kurapika was not much for dancing, not since his clan has been wiped away, especially not to some orchestra he didn’t know the name of and didn’t care enough to learn, but Leorio seemed to be enjoying himself. He could endure it, he thought. Leorio’s hand on his own, his chin resting at the crown of his head, and the unusually soft smell of cologne he wore that night made up for all the awkwardness they would’ve suffered from.

But even that became too much after a while. When Kurapika complained that it had been too long for them to be there and asked Leorio to leave, the latter only pulled him closer, held his hand tighter, and whispered, “After this dance.”

He frowned. “Let’s just go.”

“Just after this song’s over.”

Kurapika should’ve realized it was a plea.

He didn’t.

He only pushed Leorio away gently, letting his hand fall to his side. “It’s been going a while so it’ll end soon anyway, why not just go now?”

“Because I love you and I still want to be here, that’s why.”

The answer wasn’t the thing that made him drop Leorio’s hand mid-dancing and ran from the balcony, into the foyer. It wasn’t what made him feel like he had to escape from Leorio – from _Leorio_ , out of all people! – and felt a gnawing pit at the bottom of his stomach growing with each step he took. Even when Leorio finally caught up to him, shouting “– a joke! It was obviously a joke!”, the pit didn’t disappear.

It wasn’t until they sat on the train on their way back to the city, that they were able to act somewhat normal around each other again. Leorio, who had reverted back to his playful nature, nudged the blonde and teased, “why were you so flustered, eh? Finally falling in love with me?” to which Kurapika responded by giving him another set of bruises that lined up on his arm.

And he laughed it off. Or he tried to. But he couldn’t ignore the look in Leorio’s eyes that burns through him like he had a scarlet fire of his own. He couldn’t forget that gentle gaze that nestled on his empty eyes who’s witnessed so many atrocities as if he was something gentle. Something good. Something actually worthy of love.

He wasn’t, that much he understood. No matter how many times Leorio uttered those words, it won’t turn him into something he’s not. To his consolation, Leorio always said things like “ _it was a joke, come on, don’t be cringe_ ” and “ _love? In THIS economy? You can’t eat love for dinner, baby_ ” and “ _it’s just something stupid I say to my bestest bros, cause why not?_ ”

So Kurapika allowed Leorio to say those words more often.

The next ‘ _I love you_ ’s often came in between hasty kisses and tangled sheets and warm bodies pressed against each other, purred all-too-innocently into the crevices of his ear. Sometimes it would be shouted in place of a goodbye when Kurapika stepped his foot out of his apartment, or it would be whispered in place of a ‘ _be careful_ ’ when it was time for Kurapika to go about his missions. Most of the time, it came as it always was: a joke, in between bellowed laughters that must’ve annoyed Leorio’s neighbors for being too loud.

Kurapika tried to keep note of how many times Leorio said those words, just so that he’d know how many times he didn’t. But the days blurred by and Leorio started to be bolder and said it more often, so it was getting harder for Kurapika to track the record and he’d lost count of how many ‘ _I love you_ ’s there were after two years since the first time he heard it. 

He always wondered if Leorio ever got tired of saying those words without ever hearing it back.

The memory of the last time he ever heard Leorio said those words were still etched in his mind, his heart still hollow from the aftermath. It came on a calm rainy afternoon, and Kurapika could still hear the raindrops that fell like a rhythm on the asphalt roof, complementing the song – a piece by Shostakovich, Kurapika remembered – that was playing on Leorio’s old cd player. It wasn’t Leorio’s usual taste, but he always said that classical music always helped him study better, though Kurapika couldn’t remember if Leorio did any studying at all that day.

They were sprawled across Leorio’s living room, bellies full with the roast chicken they’d cooked together. The day before, Kurapika had obtained information about the Spiders’ whereabouts, the first real lead he’s gotten after months of dead ends. He decided to visit Leorio, just in case the worst came, and after spending the whole day together, he was ready to face his lifelong nemesis.

But Leorio had another idea.

“Stay the night,” he murmured against Kurapika’s hair. He remembered the beat of Leorio’s heart pounding on his back, long arms enveloping him from behind.

Safe and warm. Kurapika wished he could offer something that way to Leorio, too.

“I can’t,” Kurapika sighed, removing the hands slung across his chest and walking to the apartment door that seemed so far away. “This information might turn irrelevant if I postpone my hunt any longer.”

“Kurapika,” Leorio’s voice sounded frail when he called. “I’m sorry if this is out of line, but… you’ve collected all the eyes by now, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Kurapika nodded curtly. “And?”

“And… I was just thinking that maybe you can rest now.”

It wasn’t something Kurapika ever expected Leorio to request. The latter had never once tried to stop him, in all the years they’ve been together. He knew the fact that he makes it his life mission to hunt the most notorious gang of outlaws wasn’t exactly ideal, but he thought Leorio understood why he did it.

“ _Rest_ as in stop hunting the – no.”

“Your goal is to have your family back, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that was my main goal. But I won’t rest until I capture the spiders.”

Kurapika couldn’t decide if the look in Leorio’s eyes were concern, pity, or sadness. Perhaps it was a mix of all three. “You deserve to, Pika.”

He remembered the coals of annoyance burning on his stomach. He wanted to shout and rage – what does Leorio know about what he deserves? He might’ve told him more parts of his life than he ever told anyone, but that doesn’t mean that he understood _anything_. He couldn’t. He wasn’t the one who left his hometown only to return back to ashes and sea of corpses waiting to rot. He wasn’t the one who had to stare at the emptied eyes from the bodies he once held, he once shared chitters and laughters with, now laying motionless six feet underground. He wished he was with them, more than anything, but fate was a cruel bitch that decided to let him live a hell he could never escape. Even if he wanted to be the good and kind person he once was, he was already descending into the same sinners he used to despise.

Someone like him deserved a lot of things, but rest isn’t one of them. There were sins he has yet to atone. Perhaps chaining the Spiders down, although it started as a personal vengeance, had been his ways of erasing evil from the world, to stop them from killing and pillaging more innocent people.

Kurapika let the anger simmer away before answering Leorio’s request.

“No, I don’t,” he replied, calm and collected. “Besides, isn’t it part of my job as a blacklist hunter to capture those fuckers?”

“It’s not _your_ job specifically,” Leorio sighed. “I understand that it’s personal to you, but –”

“Well, then, all the more reason to exterminate them, right?” Kurapika interrupted, reaching for the black suit laying on the floor. “Anyway, I’ll get going –”

Leorio grabbed his arm sternly, stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” Kurapika answered. “What is this, why are you suddenly trying to hold me back? I’ve been doing this for years, this isn’t something new.”

“Exactly – you’ve been doing it for _years_. You can rest now. I understand that hunting them is part of your job, but there are plenty of perfectly capable hunters who I’m sure are already in pursuit of them,” Leorio’s eyes softened behind his glasses. “Let them do their job. You’ve done enough.”

“No. None of those hunters own a chain specifically designed to capture them. If they’re so capable, then why am I the only person who ever killed them? They might try, but I’m the only one who can actually do it.”

The grip on his arm only tightened. “Every time you came home from one of these missions, I can see, more and more, the effect of your Nen taking its toll. It’s wearing you down. You need to rest,” Leorio said. “Please. You’ve done enough.”

“These bastards need to be chained down to hell.”

“Absolutely, I agree. But you don’t have to do this anymore –”

“Do you think I fucking _want_ to?” Kurapika snapped, shoving Leorio’s hand away from his arm, accidentally scratching him in the process. “Do you think tracking them down and making a futile pact with them to spare their lives if they do no harm anymore, only for them to always – _always_ – breaks the arrangement, staining my hands with more blood – do you think I do that for _fun_?”

“I –”

Kurapika knew he probably should drop the subject and leave. Just leave, because he never liked shouting at people or having an argument with them, especially not if the person’s Leorio. Especially when Leorio looked like he regretted ever saying anything.

But he didn’t.

“You know what they always say, right before their death?”

“No, I –”

“They always asked me to kill them. As soon as my chain wrapped around their body and they had no other choice but to answer my questions, they begged for death. Immediately. Do you know what that means, Leorio?”

“No –”

“That means they’d rather _die_. They’d rather die than risking their comrades’ lives. They could’ve lived longer, I gave that option to them – to _all_ of them – but none of them took it. That was never even an option to them. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation to give me any scrap pieces of information, however small, not even for a split second. And do you want to know something else?”

Kurapika didn’t even give Leorio a moment to respond.

“Somewhere along the line, my sick, fucked up brain started to _sympathize_ with them. Imagine, sympathizing with the people who massacred your own clan,” he laughed dryly. “But I just – I couldn’t help but wonder if they actually _do_ have a genuine bond and love for each other. Maybe devils are capable of friendships, after all.”

“It shouldn’t matter –”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t it? They’re still murderers. It doesn’t make my anger go away. It doesn’t make me forgive them. But it does make me wonder if I just killed a friend. A lover, maybe. A member of a family. Which didn’t fucking help my case, ‘cause now I wish they were just casual colleagues with no strings attached. But here we are.”

“Kurapika…” 

“And I know better than anyone what it feels like to lose the people you cared for, so –” he spat. “I’ll send them all to hell. They can burn and rot together. But there can be no survivors. No one gets left behind.”

“Kurapika –”

“Look,” Kurapika interrupted, not wanting to hear anything more from Leorio for fear that he might truly explode. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll clean my blood and wounds before coming here next time, okay? So you don’t have to look at them –”

“Marry me.”

It was as if the whole world paused for Leorio to say that line. There was no more music playing in the background, no more therapeutic sound of rain hitting the window. The only thing he could hear was his own heart, thrashing wildly on his rib cage, asking him to say yes, say yes and forget anything else ever existed, throw everything out the window, pretend that he’s a normal person living a normal life, and _say yes_. It’d be so easy. It should’ve been so easy.

It was unfortunate that his heart was restricted in a chain of barbed wires.

“What?” was the only reply he could offer Leorio.

Leorio cleared his throat. “I said, marry m–”

“I heard you. What the fuck, Leorio?”

The look Leorio gave him was eerily similar to the one he had all those nights ago, taking him back to that salt air balcony. “I’m serious. I know that sometimes I say I was joking when I say I love you, but none of them were jokes, I thought you’d figured that out by yourself. I truly love you, have been for a while now –”

“Please stop talking.”

“– and it’s actually something I’ve been meaning to do. I was just never sure when to propose… but I bought a ring,” Kurapika didn’t even realize that there was a little velvet box on Leorio’s hand, revealing a glistening silver ring inside, like the pearl he used to collect from seashells when he was little. “Marry me.”

And it just dawned on him what Leorio wanted of him.

“Is this some kind of a sick joke?”

A part of him wished that Leorio would break into one of his goofy grins, saying _of course it is, dumbass_ , so that he could proceed to punch him in the face before leaving for his mission. And when he got back, hopefully still in one piece, maybe the both could pretend this never happened and slip back into bed and fall asleep next to each other, as always.

It wasn’t. Kurapika knew that.

But a bit of wishful thinking never really hurt anyone… right?

“No,” Leorio confirmed his fear. “No, it’s not. Why the hell would I bought a ring if it was –”

“You’ve gone too far, Leorio, this isn’t fucking funny –”

“It’s not a joke, Pika, I’ve loved you ever since – ever since –”

“– I don’t know what the hell goes through your head –”

“– since forever, okay? Just –”

“– fuck, I don’t even _want_ to now, but this is out of the fucking line, and if this is some pathetic attempt at trying to get me to stay –”

“It’s not!” Leorio panicked.

“– and keep me away from hunting the Spiders, then I swear –”

“Would you listen for a second?” Leorio shouted, his voice booming but his hands were gentle when he grabbed Kurapika’s shoulders. “Look. I’m in love with you – that wasn’t a joke. It never was. I tried to show you, I really do, but you wouldn’t let me – which is fine, seriously, I’ll try harder – but it’s just… I just want you to be happy.”

Kurapika couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. “Happy?”

“Yeah, happy, Pika. You’re capable of that. There’s life outside of vengeance, one that you could live in, if you gave it a chance. Please, just –”

“Okay, say we got married. Then what? We’ll ride off into the golden sunsets with birds flying around the _happy ever after_ banner, and what? That’ll fucking cure me? That’ll give me back my family? That’ll bring those demons to justice? That’ll give me back the life I’ve lost? We don’t live in fucking fantasy land, Leorio.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m not saying that it’ll solve anything. But it’s a new start… isn’t it?” 

“No,” Kurapika answered almost instantly.

“I’m more than happy to be with you. Hell, it’s what I wanted, but Pika… It kills me. It really does. I couldn’t go on like this –”

“Then don’t.”

Kurapika didn’t mean for the words to come out so harshly. But judging by the wounded look on Leorio’s face, he knew that it had struck a chord.

He sighed. “You’re a good person, Leorio,” – _way too good_ – “and I care so much for you. It’s just that we can’t work together. We won’t. I’m not going to stop hunting those fuckers, no matter what –”

“I love you, Kurapika.”

“– and you’ll be forced to watch me do it every single time, and I understand that that’s not something you or I would be able to endure in the long run, so –”

“I love you, Kurapika.”

“– we’d both be miserable, and we’d wish we hadn’t done it –”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Leorio's voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll work hard to make things work. I always do. I just – I want you by my side, always. I want you to know that you can have a family again, you don’t have to be alone. I’d never regret this decision.”

Kurapika’s heart only grew heavier on his chest.

“So I’ll ask this again,” Leorio opened the velvet box once again. “Marry me.”

“This isn’t the time,” Kurapika scolded. “Do you hear anything I said earlier? About how this information could be irrelevant if I delayed it any longer?”

“So say yes, right now, and I’ll let you go. For tonight.”

 _For tonight_. And what about the rest of their lives?

“I can’t.”

“Why?” 

“I just can’t.”

“At least give me a reason.”

Because how was he supposed to be with someone as good as Leorio, who seemed to turn everything he touches into glittering gold? How was his heart, forever confined in the restraint of a cursed chain, supposed to reside inside of such a pure, white one? How was his hands, with all its jagged edges, supposed to hold such a delicate and gentle one, who only ever used to mend broken things and broken people? How was his eyes, the burning reds of hatred, were supposed to look into ones that are filled with kindness and compassion?

But Kurapika didn’t say any of that.

He never lied before in his life. Even when he was still in pursuit of the whereabouts of his brethrens, in all of his dirty ways of obtaining precious information, he never once lied about anything. He still held the belief that lying is something similar to greed – a sin he hated the most – and swore to never do the shameful act.

But he couldn’t give a reason.

He couldn’t give a reason at all.

So he lied, “I don’t love you.”

And that was it.

Kurapika didn’t stay long enough to see Leorio’s face after he hurled those words at him, and Leorio never called out for him when he walked out of that door for the last time. There were no longer any ‘ _I love you!_ ’ shouted and a kiss planted on his cheek in place of a goodbye. 

There were no goodbyes at all, in fact. Leorio didn’t chase him when he was halfway through the flight of stairs, or when he stood alone in the pouring rain.

Not that Kurapika expected him to.

When he looked back on Leorio’s window, he could still see the lights that were still on, illuminating Leorio’s silhouette that created a halo around him. He seemed to have a way of making broken things look beautiful. Even their relationship, that he should’ve known was doomed from the very beginning. Or himself, who he should’ve realized was so beyond repair that no Midas touch could ever mend.

Perhaps one day Leorio will find someone he could share his life with.

But he knew it wasn’t him. It wouldn’t be him.

Still, for a moment, Kurapika could see glimpses of a life, one that he won’t ever have. He could perfectly envision Leorio’s happy tears on their wedding day at the altar, with their friends standing as his best man with smiles on their faces. He could almost taste the warm curry on his stomach when he came back home from work, one that doesn’t stain his hands with blood. He could see them standing in front of Leorio’s university, with Leorio wearing a toga and holding his diploma in one hand, and a bouquet of flowers on the other. He could feel his hands holding Leorio’s, guiding him to the steps of a traditional Kurta dance he hadn’t got the pleasure to experience since he was a child, one that his parents used to dance all the time.

But the future that’s waiting right in front of him wouldn’t be so beautiful. Like he said before, they didn’t live in fantasy land. There was no happy ending.

So Kurapika tore his eyes away from Leorio’s silhouette, from the warmest home he’s ever felt since the tragedy, turned his heels and left the grounds.

They would’ve built such a wonderful life together.

What a shame he’s fucked in the head, he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> so... yea..... ahahah
> 
> one day i will write wholesome leopika fluff fic. but that day is not today.
> 
> thank u for reading!! im still trying to become a better writer so constructive criticism are welcome and ofc kudos and comments and bookmarks are very much appreciated :D come hang out with me on twitter and tumble if u wanna (@komacinne on both)~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And there is happiness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29863434) by [thelastofthekurta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastofthekurta/pseuds/thelastofthekurta)




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